So Sick
by CailinNollaig
Summary: He’s never noticed it before, but the love songs are never ending. One after another, singers pour out their love, their heartbreak and wishes. He wishes it would stop. He’s sick of love; sick of tears, pain and sadness. But he can't turn it off.


_**Authors Note: Again, angsty. Please read the lyrics before the one-shot. Speaking of which, lyrics belong to Ne-Yo. So, before you ask, they're not mine. ;) Enjoy!**_

_It's ridiculous,  
__It's been months but for some reason  
__I just can't get over us.  
__And I'm stronger than this._

_I'm so sick of love songs,  
__So tired of tears,  
__So done with wishing you were still here._

_Said I'm so sick of love songs,  
__So sad and slow.  
__So why can't I turn off the radio?_

_Gotta' fix that calender I have,  
__It's marked July fifteenth  
__Because since there's no more you,  
__There's no more anniversaries._

_I'm so fed up with my thoughts of you,  
__And your memories.  
__And now every song reminds me of what used to be._

_That's the reason I'm so sick of love songs._

He feels sick; from the bottom of his stomach to the burning in his throat; from the ache in his chest to the pain in his head. He wants to wallow in pity, but part of him rebels, advising him to go to a bar and drink.

He feels so sick that he can't even find the motivation for Quiddicth -- for the first time in his life, ever.

He was never even supposed to get involved with her; they had nothing in common, except their drive and passion for things they loved. And their determination to reach their gaols, no matter the cost to their health. He was never supposed to get involved with Potter's best friend.

She was so much more though; she had been in inspiration for countless of matches and moves, motivating him to do so much more with his life than he had previously planned.

He was enraptured by her; enthralled by her very being. Everything about her appealed to him; her passion, her beauty and the way she gazed at you with warmth and love, the way she never tired of reading, and her intelligence never ended. She was a beautiful person both inside and out, and he wonders why they're breaking up.

She was doing the breaking, of course. Hermione Granger dumping Oliver Wood. It is going to be a headline, and he can already predict tomorrow's.

"How can we ever have a future, Oliver, when you're already married?" Her words echo in his mind. Although, he's not legitimately married, he understands her.

_He's married to Quidditch._

The game has suddenly lost his appeal, but he suspects it will return in a week or so. It's repel would never last long with him; after all, according to Hermione, he has a life-long commitment with the sport.

Oliver sits in his front room, swishing his Fire Whiskey around in the glass, wishing the burning sensation would rid him of all the pain and bad feelings. He's never been this heartbroken over a _girl. _Losing a major match, perhaps. But never over a girl.

He'd never cared enough to feel the pain, but it was hounding him with a vengeance now. The radio plays quietly in the background, and Oliver absent-mindedly listens every now and again.

He's never noticed it before, but the love songs are never ending. One after another, singers pour out their love, their heartbreak and wishes. He wishes it would stop.

He's sick of love; sick of tears, pain and sadness. Oliver can't bring himself to turn it off though.

He can't think about her, because it brings with it a depressing atmosphere and a sting in his chest. Oliver doesn't understand why it's his chest that is bearing the brunt, but tosses back another Fire Whiskey anyway.

_Married to Quidditch._

Oliver stands, enraged by how miserable he feels and how he's yearning for her. He _hates_ the vulnerability. In his rage, he tears down and breaks anything that reminds him of her. And, somehow, most of his house reminds him of the loving brunette.

Ten minutes later, he collapses back into the chair, dropping his head into his hands. The house is silent once more, and then the radio plays again. It's another love song and Oliver knocks the radio off of the table.

Only to fix it two minutes later and listen to the song.

Glancing at a smashed photograph of the two of them on the ground, Oliver sighs. Next time, he'll make more time for his girlfriend and make sure she knows she's loved.

He's divorcing Quidditch.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It's extremely strange, but all my latest one-shots seem to be. Short, strange and .. Angst. God, the angst in every fic is beginning to get unbearable! I'm sure it will be lighter in a few weeks, I'm just not in the best of moods ;)

xCNx

Note: When I say 'everything about her appealed to him' this is evidently not true, but post break-ups, people usually block out the bad parts and focus on the good times. It's not until later on you think of the bad!lol


End file.
